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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25710736">Double-Sided</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherx/pseuds/featherx'>featherx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, FE3H Wank Week, Fantasizing, Friends With Benefits, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Spanking, Wall Sex, caspar pining for linhardt pining for byleth, top caspar/bottom linhardt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:41:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,075</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25710736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherx/pseuds/featherx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m sorry,” Caspar says, “you want me to do <i>what?</i>”</p><p>Linhardt’s cheeks are colored an embarrassed red, but he repeats what he said some two seconds ago with the same brazen boldness: “Fuck me against the wall.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>109</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Wank Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Double-Sided</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>it's uh. it's me again huh. this is for day 5 of FE3H wank week, using the pining prompt, but i will admit this fits really well for the fantasizing in day 2 as well<br/>as the tags mention, this features one-sided casphardt and one-sided byhardt because i am but a degenerate fool who will make my own food if no one else will. note for slightly sad ending for this one (don't worry, there's a part 3 to fix that)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m sorry,” Caspar says, “you want me to do <em> what?</em>”</p><p>Linhardt’s cheeks are colored an embarrassed red, but he repeats what he said some two seconds ago with the same brazen boldness: “Fuck me against the wall.”</p><p>“Yeah, I <em> heard </em> you the first time, I meant—”</p><p>“Have you never fucked anyone against a wall before?”</p><p>Now it’s Caspar’s turn to feel his face heat up. “<em>No? </em> I’ve never—Why would I—<em>With who </em> would I have—”</p><p>Linhardt sighs, sounding disappointed. “Well, don’t concern yourself with it then. I’ll think of something else.”</p><p>“Wai—no, no, it’s not, like—it’s not a <em> bad </em> thing,” Caspar hurries to amend. Linhardt looks back at him, eyes glimmering in familiar interest and curiosity. “I mean… you’ll have to be a little… precise, though. Even then it shouldn’t be so hard, right?”</p><p>Linhardt nods, a small smile blooming on his face. “And you like it when I order you around anyway, don’t you?”</p><p>“I—<em>Linhardt.</em>”</p><p>“Hmph. It’s true.” Linhardt tosses him the now-familiar bottle of oil, and by the time Caspar’s done fumbling to catch it, Linhardt’s already turned around to face the wall of his room, hands braced against the wood. “Well?” he mumbles, turning slightly over his shoulder to give Caspar his typical impatient look. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”</p><p>He’s still dressed, though only in his undershirt and some loose pants rather than his usual robes, so Caspar wastes no time in undoing the front of his trousers and tugging them down along with his smallclothes. “Stop there,” Linhardt instructs, voice shaky, as Caspar pulls his clothes down to around his thighs. “So it’s… So it’s like this is in a hurry…”</p><p>“Oh, we’re making up scenarios now?” Caspar can get behind that. He squeezes one of Linhardt’s cheeks, huffing a laugh when Linhardt squirms at his touch, and slicks his fingers up with oil. “So why am I fucking you against the wall anyway?”</p><p>Linhardt’s silent in contemplation for a while, and he gasps in surprise when Caspar rubs at his hole. “It’s—It’s right before a tactics meeting,” he manages, voice approaching that breathy quality Caspar loves so much. “And someone could walk in at any moment…”</p><p>Caspar bites back a curse. Where does Linhardt come up with these ideas? He slips a finger inside him, watching captivated by how Linhardt’s shoulders jump and his hips quiver in what might be pleasure or excitement or anything in between. “But we just can’t keep our hands off each other?” he suggests, leaning close to nip at the soft skin at the back of Linhardt’s neck. It’s not a kiss, he tells himself—just another bruise to leave on this perfect body.</p><p>Linhardt shudders, a small sound trapped in his throat. “Open me up already,” he orders, the authority laced in his voice stirring Caspar’s cock. Caspar hurries to obey, adding another finger faster than he’s used to, and Linhardt presses his forehead against the wood, his arms now visibly trembling.</p><p>That’s right—they’re in a hurry, aren’t they? To get this over with before anyone happens to walk in and see them like this. Caspar swallows dryly at the concept and scissors his fingers, hot arousal coiling in his gut when Linhardt rocks his hips backwards to take in more of his hand. “Lin,” Caspar sighs. “You want it faster?”</p><p>“M-Mm…” Linhardt looks back at him again, cheeks now distinctly flushed with something that isn’t just embarrassment anymore. “Now,” he says, and it takes Caspar a second to understand what he means. “I want it, Caspar,” Linhardt adds, his tone firm. “Don’t hesitate.”</p><p>“But Lin, it might hurt—”</p><p>“Exactly,” Linhardt pointedly says, and for some reason that just makes Caspar’s dick throb in anticipation. With a mumbled affirmation, Caspar gives Linhardt’s hole one more prod before drawing back, unbuttons his trousers, and nearly spills the entire bottle of oil on his dick with his shaking hands. “Don’t go wasting that now,” Linhardt scolds.</p><p>“I won’t, I won’t!” He lines his cock up with Linhardt’s entrance, already half-hard and only growing harder when Linhardt reaches behind himself with one hand to spread his ass further open. “Goddess, Lin, you always…”</p><p>Linhardt blinks slowly, almost <em> sleepily, </em> at him. “Always what?”</p><p>“Always look so fucking perfect.” Caspar eases his cock inside Linhardt, both of them groaning when the tip enters him—Linhardt’s always so perfectly tight and perfectly hot and perfectly <em> everything, </em> enough that Caspar doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of him. He wants to say this, wants to tell Linhardt all the words he pretends are just sweet nothings, but instead he just pushes further inside Linhardt, gripping his hips and watching him tremble and shake beneath him. Caspar hadn’t even noticed Linhardt sliding further down the wall until he’s nearly bent in half, back arched and ass raised.</p><p>Linhardt swallows. “Again,” he commands.</p><p>He’s certainly gotten less hesitant about demanding praise, but it’s not like Caspar’s ever going to say no. He moves his hands down to squeeze Linhardt’s ass again, kneading the soft flesh and littering bites across the reddening sliver of skin along Linhardt’s neck. “Gorgeous,” Caspar breathes, and Linhardt whimpers, tightening momentarily around him. “You always take my cock so well, Lin.”</p><p>It’s the phrase Linhardt reacts strongest to, and this time is no exception—he moans lowly, spreading his legs even further, starting to slowly fuck himself on Caspar’s cock. “Am—Am I doing good?” he whispers, sounding strangely unsure.</p><p>Caspar dampens his lips, because if they get any dryer the skin is going to split. “You’re doing so good,” he reassures, beginning to thrust in and out of Linhardt now, keeping the pace slow for now to get them both accustomed to it. He still isn’t the best at this praise kink stuff without sounding sort of repetitive, but Linhardt seems to like it all the same, so at least there’s that. “You’re… such a good boy, Linhardt…”</p><p>A shudder runs through Linhardt’s body, and the heady noise he lets out makes Caspar’s cock throb inside him. And then, in a low whisper Caspar just barely hears: “Professor…”</p><p>Caspar freezes. His own heartbeat has never sounded this loud in his ears. “Wh—huh?”</p><p>“I—” Linhardt turns around to face him again, eyes wide. “I apologize, that—I didn’t mean to say that. I-It slipped out. I wasn’t—”</p><p>“No, I mean—it’s <em> fine, </em> Lin.” Except it’s not, of course. Caspar knows Linhardt’s been attracted to their professor for who knows how long by now, though Caspar doesn’t know if it’s purely physical or if there are other factors involved. Whatever the case, Caspar’s known this long enough that the sting of pain in his chest doesn’t bother him as much as it used to, back when the pining was so overwhelming it hurt—no, if Linhardt doesn’t want him, then Caspar just has to live with that. It’s fine. It’s whatever. They’re best friends, and Caspar doesn’t want to lose that for anything.</p><p>Then again, it still hurts just a <em> little </em> bit to realize Linhardt’s been imagining Byleth in Caspar’s place this whole time. His grip tightens involuntarily on Linhardt’s ass, and Linhardt gasps softly, looking up at Caspar with those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his. “I’m… sorry,” Linhardt murmurs. “I should have told you.”</p><p>“I… Well, that would’ve been nice, yeah,” Caspar admits. “But it’s really no problem. I was just, uh. Little surprised. I-It’s not a bad thing or anything, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He shifts around a little, almost surprised again when Linhardt’s hips jerk and he gasps in a mix of shock and pleasure—had they both forgotten they were in the middle of… this?</p><p>Wait. So Linhardt had been imagining <em> Byleth </em> throughout this entire scenario, hadn’t he? It’s Byleth he wants to be at the tactics meeting with, Byleth he wants to be fucking him from behind. That, at least, explains why Linhardt is facing the wall rather than Caspar—not having to see his face or body or anything, only feel his cock inside him, must make things easier to imagine. The thought just makes Caspar’s chest hurt more. And yet…</p><p>And yet, if this is what Linhardt wants, why not? It would make him happy, wouldn’t it? Well, probably not as happy as he would be if Caspar were Byleth themselves instead, but the point stands.</p><p>His own happiness is an afterthought at best. Caspar presses close, working his cock deeper in Linhardt until he bottoms out. “Say it again,” he prompts, to Linhardt’s confused look. “Call me what you want to.”</p><p>Linhardt’s brow furrows. “But Cas—”</p><p>“Come on, Lin. I can’t help you out if you’re not entirely happy, right?” Caspar forces a grin. “You’ll have to make this up to me some other time, that’s all. But let me do this for you. I just have to pretend to be the professor, don’t I?”</p><p>Linhardt swallows, and after a long silent second, he turns back to face the wall. “Y… Yes,” he eventually manages. “You—You don’t have to do anything, Caspar. What we’ve been doing until now works.”</p><p><em> Yeah, right. </em> Caspar grabs onto Linhardt’s waist for a better grip and starts pounding into him with only a second’s worth of warning, tearing a strangled moan from Linhardt’s mouth and pre-cum nearly spurting out of his neglected dick. “Goddess, you’re so fucking tight,” Caspar groans, saying whatever comes to mind—it’s not like he knows how the professor is in bed, but it’s not like Linhardt knows either, so this should be fine. “You love this, don’t you, Lin… hardt?”</p><p>“I-I—mmh—ah—” Linhardt’s entire body is shaking from exertion, and Caspar briefly realizes this is one of the few times Linhardt isn’t lying down or sitting during sex. He must have <em> really </em> wanted this to give up his comfort. “Y… Yes… I love it,” he pants out eventually in between thrusts. Softly, shyly, almost certainly hesitantly, “More… Professor…”</p><p>“T-That’s right,” Caspar says, hoping Linhardt can ignore the stutter in his words. He smacks Linhardt’s ass hard, and Linhardt chokes on a moan that escapes his mouth. His skin is so pale that it reddens almost immediately, a sight Caspar can’t look away from. “You should be quieter,” he advises, or pretends to, if only because he’s addicted to every sweet sound he can draw from Linhardt’s lips. “What if someone hears you, huh? Sees me—Sees the professor fucking you like this?”</p><p>“Don’t care,” Linhardt gasps out, eyes screwed shut and sweat dripping down the side of his head, sticking long strands of hair to his skin. “Let—Let them see—I w-want you so bad, Professor, please—”</p><p>Caspar has to hold back a scream of frustration: <em> Why them? Why not me? What does Byleth have that I don’t? What did they do that I didn’t? </em> He wants to fuck the answers out of Linhardt, wants to pound him into the ground until Linhardt’s filled with his cum but still begging for more. Linhardt always somehow keeps his haughty, uptight front up during foreplay, but he also always sinks into <em> this </em> sort of personality, where he wants just about every dirty thing Caspar can think of, the moment Caspar starts fucking him. Is it because he pretends it’s Byleth’s cock instead?</p><p>Linhardt’s hand scrambling to bat at his wrist rips Caspar away from his thoughts. “O-Order me around,” he manages, voice low as if trying not to break the facade they’ve built up.</p><p>What? Caspar’s no good at that. But Linhardt sounds so <em> desperate, </em> and—well, he promised he’d help Linhardt out, didn’t he? If this will make Linhardt happy, then Caspar shouldn’t even be thinking twice about doing it. Taking a deep breath, he grips Linhardt’s ass once more and orders, in as commanding a tone as possible, “Spread your legs wider for me. Can’t you do that?”</p><p>Linhardt whines needily, bending over even further and obediently does so, his legs spread almost obscenely wide open now. “Good boy,” Caspar praises, rubbing his ass and tracing the rim of his hole, stretched wide around Caspar’s cock, with a finger—Linhardt shivers, apparently past words now, and rocks backwards to start fucking himself again, his own dick dripping pre-cum on the floor. Caspar frowns and tightens his grip on Linhardt. “Hey—did I tell you you could move on your own?”</p><p>“I—S—Sorry, P-Professor,” Linhardt gasps, but he isn’t stopping—if anything, he’s speeding up, taking Caspar all the way until his balls before sliding back out and doing it again. He feels so absurdly good around Caspar that it’s taking everything not to lose control. “I want—Goddess, <em> please—</em>”</p><p>“You should be punished,” Caspar says, laying a palm atop one of Linhardt’s asscheeks to let him know what’s coming. Linhardt practically quivers in excitement. After another moment’s pause, Caspar raises his hand and delivers another swift slap to the soft flesh, keeping his cock buried inside Linhardt as he shivers and moans. “Count.”</p><p>He cringes internally at how he sounds—man, he was <em> so </em> not made for ordering people around—but Linhardt seems to like it, because he whimpers, “O-One.”</p><p>Another spank, and this one has Linhardt crying out. “Do you like this?” Caspar asks. He’s learned that just asking a bunch of questions usually gets the point across. “You like getting humiliated just as much as you like getting praised, don’t you?”</p><p>“Yes, yes—” Linhardt jerks back onto Caspar’s cock, and Caspar stifles his own groan when he feels his pre-cum trickling out. “Two—again, more, please—”</p><p>Linhardt stops counting and just starts moaning at around five, but it’s fine, because it’s not as if Caspar was keeping count either anyway. He just fucks Linhardt harder, driving his cock as deep as he can inside him, savoring the tight heat of Linhardt clamping down on him with each thrust. “I—” Linhardt scrabbles for purchase against the wall, rocking back in time with Caspar’s pace. “P-Professor, I’m going to—”</p><p>“You gonna come, Linhardt?” Caspar groans, trying not to think about how much extra effort it takes to say Linhardt’s full name. He catches one of Linhardt’s hands reaching down to wrap around his dick and doesn’t even think before swatting it away. “Don’t even think about it,” he growls, and this time the authority comes a little easier. “Only me.”</p><p>Linhardt nods frantically. “Only your cock,” he agrees breathlessly, his pace already growing faster and more impatient. “Only from your cock, Professor…”</p><p>Hearing that stupid title-turned-nickname only makes Caspar angrier, and he holds onto Linhardt’s hips hard enough to leave bruises in the shapes of his fingers as he pounds inside him even harder, savoring each high moan Linhardt makes until they reach a crescendo and Linhardt’s long, perfect body goes taut as a bowstring beneath him. He only has time to gasp, “<em>Byleth,</em>” before he’s coming, spilling all over the floor, some of it splattering onto the wall.</p><p>The sight if not the name is enough to have Caspar coming as well, groaning as he buries his cock deep in Linhardt and fills him up with his cum, babbling nonsense all the while—“That’s right, come for me,” he manages, barely aware he’s even talking. “Come like a dirty s-slut for your professor…”</p><p>Predictably enough, Linhardt’s legs give way after his orgasm and he nearly falls right on the floor if Caspar doesn’t catch him in time, despite his own legs feeling dangerously unsteady. Somehow they manage to stumble over to Linhardt’s bed, where Caspar carefully pulls out of Linhardt—his cum immediately starts leaking out, and Linhardt makes a noise of displeasure before reaching down to push the cum back inside himself.</p><p>Caspar is growing lightheaded just replaying the sight over and over in his head that he almost doesn’t hear what Linhardt mumbles. “I… don’t want to be empty, Cas…”</p><p>He sounds so completely out of it that Caspar’s fairly sure he’s half-asleep by now. “Yeah, it’s… I’ve got you,” Caspar mutters, dragging himself off the bed to pull open a drawer on the bedside dresser. He hurriedly wipes a now-familiar dildo clean before returning to Linhardt, who’s now inserting another finger inside himself despite the sensitive shivers running through his body. “Stop, stop. Take those out.”</p><p>“But… your cum,” Linhardt whines, and, yeah, he’s <em> definitely </em> three-quarters asleep now. His eyes are already fluttering closed, head threatening to loll back even as he’s sitting up. “Don’t wanna waste…”</p><p>“You won’t, you won’t. Here, I got the thing.” Caspar coaxes Linhardt’s hand out of himself and eases the dildo inside him instead before his cum can dribble out. Linhardt moans, soft and sweet, the blush on his cheeks less intense than earlier but there all the same. “Better, Lin… hardt?”</p><p>Linhardt nods. “Thank you,” he murmurs, words nearly slurring together. He lies down and curls up atop a pillow, eyes fully closed and breaths beginning to even. His voice is already sleep-soft when he breathes, “Love you.”</p><p>Caspar stares down at him, at the way his green hair curls just slightly at the ends, at the familiar, peaceful serenity his face takes on when asleep, at the marks beginning to bruise at the back of his neck where Caspar had bitten at. He means to leave the room, he really does, but he bends down and presses a gentle kiss at the crown of Linhardt’s head instead, soft hair brushing his nose.</p><p>“Love you too,” Caspar whispers. “I love you so much, Lin.”</p><p>Linhardt’s only response is to curl further up and bury his face in the pillow. Caspar throws a blanket over him, cleans up their mess as best as he can, and makes sure to lock the door before leaving the room.</p><p>If he were Byleth, Linhardt would have dragged them with him into his bed, slept with them and woken up with them and greeted them a good-morning or something. If he were Byleth, Linhardt would have made the effort to stay awake long enough to hear the I-love-you back. If he were Byleth, he wouldn’t have to return to his own room, wouldn’t have to wait until Linhardt was asleep to tell him his feelings, wouldn’t have to pretend at all.</p><p>His eyes are heating up far too much for his comfort. Caspar swallows and forces himself to keep a straight face, but it’s hard when he’s growing very, very tired of pretending.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i have nothing to say to defend myself.</p><p>
  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25692178">part 1</a>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26442883">part 3</a>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://twitter.com/featherxs">my twitter</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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